


Still waiting for the snow to fall

by SynthDetectiveDiMA (WastelandCryptid)



Series: Of Green and Grey, Deeper and Darker [1]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4, Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Lights, Diamond City at Christmas, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, M/M, Some Characters Just Mentioned, sad people being sad, songfic (ish)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-09-01 12:35:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8624659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WastelandCryptid/pseuds/SynthDetectiveDiMA
Summary: Oh when you're still waiting for the snow to fall   It doesn't really feel like Christmas at all Around Christmas, the residents of Diamond City could, if only for a moment, forget about the dangers of the world they lived in.For some, it brought a calm moment in a violent world, but for some it only brought memories of past Christmases and past mistakes.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ecchima](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ecchima/gifts).



> Title and the song lyrics used in the fic are from [Christmas Lights](https://youtu.be/z1rYmzQ8C9Q) by Coldplay. Parts of the fic was also inspired by [Nattöppet](https://youtu.be/g0qqB2hTlUU) by Detektivbyrån. 
> 
> Thank you so much to my incredible beta for this story, isabel from the Overwatch Writing Guild. You are amazing!

As Christmas drew near for the small town of Diamond City, right in the middle of the Commonwealth, the mood changed. You could almost forget that some 200 odd years earlier, the Great War had culminated in full out nuclear warfare. People were surviving, and in this post-apocalypse, to the best of their abilities, humankind had flourished.  
  
At times like this, the Christmas decorations that were kept in the Diamond City strongroom were draped all over their little town by the head of Diamond City security, a buff woman named Zarya. She would challenge anyone who doubted her abilities to an arm wrestling match, where she had yet to be defeated. With her help, as well as that of a few other citizens, the town was covered in colourful glowing lights and festive decorations, and the residents of Diamond City could forget, if only for a moment, about the many dangers of the world they now lived in.  
  
In the middle of the market square Bastion, the friendly beeping sentry bot, was selling soup as normal for the residents of Diamond City, hot and surprisingly delicious, as one would not have presumed a sentry bot could cook. Music flowed from the radio it had in its market stall. Lúcio, the upbeat radio DJ, was playing Christmas music, and nobody ever seemed to know from where he was broadcasting. He was playing music from centuries past, from recent years and some that sound like he made them himself. It all felt cozy in some ways, and if Lúcio cryptically said "Follow the Freedom Trail" in between two songs, nobody seemed to mind.  
  
If one looked through the window to Mercy's Hospital, the town medic's facilities, one would see Angela in deep conversation with a Fareeha Amari who was, for once, out of her power armour. Fareeha, a resident of Goodneighbor, frequently visited Diamond City to pick up supplies, and run correspondence between her mother and Angela. If she happened to stay longer than necessary talking to Angela over a drink, then nobody would be surprised anymore, and if Fareeha gave Angela a kiss? Well, that was their little shared secret, wasn't it?  
  
If you could glimpse into South Wind Dragon—and you couldn't, due to the building's lack of windows—you would find two people who were very different at a first glance, sitting opposite of each other. One of them had a large dog at his feet. They weren't exactly friends, but there was a certain sort of companionable silence between them. They were more similar than you'd imagine.  
  
The holiday held a somber note for both of them. Even the dog seemed to have caught up on the mood, for he lay silent at his master's feet. The Dragon himself, an old synth experiment over a century old cast out by Talon by the name of Hanzo Shimada, had a head full of memories of long ago, of a Hanzo Shimada who had been human, the would be leader of the Shimada Clan, who had killed his brother Genji. He had been human, all the way up until he was not. The other man, the man out of time, was the Vault Dweller who had one day made his way into the town with nothing more than the Vault suit he was wearing, a Pip-Boy on his arm, a laser rifle, and a red, white and blue leather jacket with the number 76 on the back, as well as the dog, who had apparently chosen this man to be his new owner.  
  
The Vault Dweller, whose name was Jack Morrison ( _Jack Reyes-Morrison_ , he whispered to himself sometimes, while clutching the gold rings he kept on a chain around his neck tightly, remembering a man who was taken from the very Vault they were kept frozen in, right in front of his eyes) sat there, opposite of Hanzo Shimada, a bottle of whiskey and a single glass on the small table between them. Hanzo didn't drink, couldn't drink in fact, but if he could, he would have poured both himself and Morrison a glass, had a small toast to past Christmases, past memories and past mistakes, then consumed most of the bottle together in absolute silence, while outside the rest of Diamond City continued to celebrate, both lost in thought.  


* * *

  
_Oh when you're still waiting for the snow to fall_ _  
_ _It doesn't really feel like Christmas at all_

 

* * *

  
Their silence was broken by a series of rapid knocks on the door. It wasn't uncommon for people to try and contact the South Wind Dragon for help, but Hanzo had learned to recognise the specific sound of a cybernetic metal arm hitting the wooden door of his home. He knew exactly who was knocking on his door.  


"Are you gonna open that?" asked Jack, gesturing towards the door with the glass in his hand. Hanzo simply hummed, tilted his head slightly and gave an ever so small smile. Jack was pretty sure that if it wasn't for his heightened senses from back during the SEP, he wouldn't have noticed it.  
  
As if on cue, a few seconds later the door was opened, and in walked an absolutely ridiculous-looking man. He was the kind of man you at first you would not think was real, the kind you’d expect to die as soon as he stepped foot outside the walls of Diamond City, killed by a gang of raiders or hung up among the bloody ragged body parts in the super mutants’ nets—although do not doubt, for this man was no fool. He was an intelligent man who wore the guise of a fool like a second skin. Who in this post-apocalyptic wasteland would suspect a man dressed like a cowboy to be as dangerous as he was?  
  
"Hanzo, darlin', I swear Fareeha is gonna kill me," the man, Jesse McCree, said, and gestured with his cowboy hat towards Jack in greeting.  
  
"What have you possibly done to anger Ms. Amari this time?" Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Jack tense up at the mention of the name. Jesse scratched the back of his head with his metal arm.  
  
"Well, I might have seen her and Angela making out a while back 'n I might have accidentally told Ana last time I was home in Goodneighbor," he answered sheepishly. Hanzo sighed.  
  
"You have no one to blame but yourself, Jesse, you foolish man. Why you thought it a good idea to tell the elder Amari is beyond me."  
  
"Ana Amari is alive?" Jack's question was sudden, and his face was full of something Hanzo would describe as cautious hope. "Is she from..." Jack hesitated for a second. "From before the war?"  
  
"Well, she's gone all ghoulish, but yeah, I think so," Jesse answered. "Ya' knew her?"  
  
"One of my closest friends from before all... this," Jack said with a non-committal hand gesture towards nothing in particular.  
  
"Well, Fareeha's most likely gon' return home tomorrow so I s'pose ya' could probably tag along to Goodneighbor."  
  
"I guess that's my plans for Christmas Day then," Jack said, finishing the last of his glass of whiskey. “I should get going.” He stood up. The dog rapidly rose as well, seemingly recognising that it was time to leave. “Thank you for the company,” he said to Hanzo, who nodded in agreement.

 

“I'd say wait with talkin’ to Fareeha until tomorrow mornin’, so ya’ don't accidentally walk in on something ya’ don't wanna see,” Jesse said with a wink, causing Hanzo to sigh at the cowboy again.

 

Jack left after that, the dog eagerly wagging his tail while trailing after his owner, leaving only the cowboy and the old synth within the walls of South Wind Dragon.

* * *

 

 _Those Christmas lights light up the street_ __  
_Maybe they'll bring her back to me_ __  
_Then all my troubles will be gone_ _  
__Oh Christmas lights, keep shining on_

 

* * *

 

Hanzo and Jesse retreated to Hanzo’s living area. There wasn't much in terms of furniture, since Hanzo had no need for eating, nor any actual sleeping. There were a few armchairs, an old table fashioned into a desk, and a sofa, which Jesse all but flopped down on.

 

“Something’s botherin’ ya’, Hanzo.” It wasn't a question, but rather a statement. Jesse was sure enough that something about the old synth was off. Hanzo didn't offer Jesse a reply, only hummed in agreement and sat down next to him on the sofa, leaning his head on Jesse’s shoulder.

 

“Of course there is,” he murmured. “You know me too well.”

 

“Will ya’ tell me what it is?”

 

Hanzo didn't answer, and a silence fell between the two. They simply sat there on Hanzo’s sofa, Jesse gently resting his head on Hanzo’s, who was still leaning on his shoulder.

 

“Did ya’ see the Christmas lights?” Jesse finally said, breaking the silence. “I swear they get more beautiful the closer to Christmas it is.” He barely noticed Hanzo shifting uncomfortably beside him.

 

“I… I didn't…” Hanzo hesitated. “I couldn't see them.”

 

“Why?” came the somewhat confused response from Jesse. Hanzo stayed quiet for a while, likely trying to figure out how to explain the situation to the cowboy.

 

“I couldn't see the colours,” he finally said, barely more than a whisper. “Something must have malfunctioned, but I do not know what.” Hanzo sighed. “I am… broken.”

 

“Hush, darlin’, you're perfect,” Jesse told him, putting an arm around Hanzo’s shoulders and holding him close. “Haven't parts of ya’ malfunctioned before? ‘Cause no offence, but you're not exactly fresh off the production line.” That got a short laugh as a reply.

 

“None taken, Jesse,” Hanzo replied, a touch of fondness in his voice. “You're right thought,” he said, slight smile dropping, and it was as if the blue lights in his mechanical eyes dimmed at his change in mood. “Those have usually been smaller mechanical faults, the kind that any mechanic who pretends to know what they are doing can fix. This,” he said, gesturing towards his eyes with a hand, “it is no such problem.”

 

Jesse wasn't sure if Hanzo meant his eyes, or his left hand, where the synthetic skin had all but disappeared, leaving only the thin bone-like metal joints of his inner skeleton. It was probably both.

 

“Do ya’ think Doctor Amari could help? She's worked with quite a few synths.”

 

“Jesse, no, she can't,” Hanzo replied, resignation evident in his voice. “She works with third generation synths. I'm a discarded prototype. The last of the mechanical synths, before Talon started working on the ones that are almost indistinguishable from human today.” Now it was Jesse’s turn to give only a hum as an answer.

 

“We’ll find a way, Hanzo. There must be _someone_ out there who understands how ya’ work.”

 

“Maybe there is, but I wouldn't hold onto too much hope.”

 

“Well, I just want ya’ to be alright,” Jesse mumbled.

 

“I know, Jesse. I know,” Hanzo replied, reaching over his own chest, gently placing the bare metal left hand over the hand Jesse was resting on his shoulder.

 

They sat there for quite a while, gently holding each other close, while the last few hours of Christmas Eve dwindled away in a comfortable silence. Eventually they moved to lying down on the sofa, still keeping each other close. The two made an unlikely pair, the cowboy and the old synth caring more for each other than either of them would probably like to admit. Any stranger who saw them in that moment would probably call it love.

 

The small clock on Hanzo’s desk struck midnight, or _high moon_ as Jesse had once jokingly called it, causing Jesse to look up.

 

“Hey, Hanzo,” he whispered. The answer came in the form of a muffled questioning hum from the other man, from where his head lay on Jesse’s chest.

 

“Merry Christmas, darlin’,” he said, receiving a soft chuckle in reply.

 

“Merry Christmas, Jesse.”

 

So they lay there. The world outside the walls of Diamond City was still just as dangerous, still just the same barren wasteland of the Commonwealth, but, if only for a moment, they could pretend everything was okay. They could savour this moment of calm, before eventually everything would go back to normal. It didn't really feel like Christmas at all, but it didn't need to. A moment of calm was enough, a moment to hold each other close and be happy you’d both survived to this point. For just a few moments, they could be happy.

 

* * *

  
_Oh Christmas lights light up the street_ __  
_Light up the fireworks in me_ __  
_May all your troubles soon be gone_ _  
__Those Christmas lights keep shining on_

**Author's Note:**

> This is my Christmas gift to Ecchima, a dear friend of mine. 
> 
> I've probably been nagging the members of S.S. OverShippers (previously McHanzo's United) with this AU for so long, but I'm incredibly happy they've listened to me and helped me figure all this out. If you ever wanna know more about this AU, either DM me at UnlikelyValentine#5099 or @ me in any server we're both in.


End file.
